I am currently sitting by my cart, on an island in a river ( or as google likes to call it "an eyot or ait, or a holm") watching my two new mongolian friends, Sherlock and Bayur at the opposite river bank, on their litre of beer, hoping they stay on that side of the river. Lets start from the beginning shall we?
My morning began with the shock and realisation that I was leaving the hostel today. I had a list of jobs to do before my lift at 10.30am was ready, so after a slow breakfast and chat with Anand, I hit the UB streets for the last time. Once back I did a quick blog update and proceded to cram my gear into the back of Tuvshog ("the driver")'s ute. Tuvshog had a plan for me - head south out of the city and take the quiter exit out of surburbia. It worked a treat. We navigated out of the pulsing UB centre untill we reached the foot of the Bogdkhan national park mountain. From there we unloaded the pick up and said our goodbyes and I started setting up the cart.
My morning began with the shock and realisation that I was leaving the hostel today. I had a list of jobs to do before my lift at 10.30am was ready, so after a slow breakfast and chat with Anand, I hit the UB streets for the last time. Once back I did a quick blog update and proceded to cram my gear into the back of Tuvshog ("the driver")'s ute. Tuvshog had a plan for me - head south out of the city and take the quiter exit out of surburbia. It worked a treat. We navigated out of the pulsing UB centre untill we reached the foot of the Bogdkhan national park mountain. From there we unloaded the pick up and said our goodbyes and I started setting up the cart.
A soldier who appeared out of know where inquired where I was from. His intrigued and smily face set me at ease and was happy with my reply and went on his way. 5 minutes a local cyclist stopped for chat. With no english and my poor attempt at mongolian we managed to converse. My magic letter saved the day ( kindly translated by Bayur a helpfull staff member back at the hostel). The cyclist went to great lengths at drawing in the sand explaining how to circumnavigate the next town and save me a bit of time and hassle. With smiles and wishes of good luck (I'm guessing? !), my new cyclist friend was on his way.
I wrestled on the harness and carefully took my first few steps. Even though the cart now weighed in excess of 125kg, it surprisingly glided with ease! The next 30 minutes was spent making slight adjustments and the first hour flew by. Numerous cars beeped with the thumbs up, builders at a building site were full of cheer. The little van where I bought a coke from supplied entertainment in the form of two older women, amused at this crazy foreigner with his metal cart and over sized hat. A pleasant experience all round. I finally found my self relaxed for the first time in weeks.
Singing away to myself, I quickly came to my intended check point - 15km. Full of energy, I considered keeping on the go but common sense took over. Ease myself into it, that was the plan.
I was conveniently across the road from a park which had nice flat terrain and a river running through it. That would be the campsite for the bight. After chilling for a while, I began to ponder what to do for the next 6 hours (sunset is around 9.30). Enter Sherlock and his friend Bayir. The next few hours were spent in a game of charades and book pointing, , trying to understand each other. After a while I pointed where I intended to sleep. Both guys thought it was a bad idea, as there seemed to be 3 alcoholics, who according to Sherlock, slept there after their drinking sessions. It was decided across the river was the better option. ( My couple of beers from their flaggon had not hampered my judgement just yet). The river was shallow but it still took bit of effort to get accross, even with Sherlock pushing from behind ( Bayir was on the next beer run). To be fair the new spot was a lot better. Secluded, sheltered but close to civilization incase I needed help. Another hour was spent drinking and singing ( including me serenading Sherlock's wife down the phone with "Hey Jude" on Sherlocks request. Unfortunately Sherlock was making it quite apparent he wanted my sunglasses. In general I would be happy to gift them to him but I was headed to the Gobi with not many shops between me an 37°C. I needed those glasses. I had tried this truth a little earlier but it wasn't getting through the language barrier. Plan B - A little subterfuge and the illusion of missing glasses was sold. With Bayir on beer run 3, Sherlock started to lose interest and crossed the river again in search of his mate. There they sat finishing their 3rd and final flaggon of beer.
I was conveniently across the road from a park which had nice flat terrain and a river running through it. That would be the campsite for the bight. After chilling for a while, I began to ponder what to do for the next 6 hours (sunset is around 9.30). Enter Sherlock and his friend Bayir. The next few hours were spent in a game of charades and book pointing, , trying to understand each other. After a while I pointed where I intended to sleep. Both guys thought it was a bad idea, as there seemed to be 3 alcoholics, who according to Sherlock, slept there after their drinking sessions. It was decided across the river was the better option. ( My couple of beers from their flaggon had not hampered my judgement just yet). The river was shallow but it still took bit of effort to get accross, even with Sherlock pushing from behind ( Bayir was on the next beer run). To be fair the new spot was a lot better. Secluded, sheltered but close to civilization incase I needed help. Another hour was spent drinking and singing ( including me serenading Sherlock's wife down the phone with "Hey Jude" on Sherlocks request. Unfortunately Sherlock was making it quite apparent he wanted my sunglasses. In general I would be happy to gift them to him but I was headed to the Gobi with not many shops between me an 37°C. I needed those glasses. I had tried this truth a little earlier but it wasn't getting through the language barrier. Plan B - A little subterfuge and the illusion of missing glasses was sold. With Bayir on beer run 3, Sherlock started to lose interest and crossed the river again in search of his mate. There they sat finishing their 3rd and final flaggon of beer.
Since I began to write this, the boys have left. I moved my gear a little further into the bush just in case I received anymore visitors. Dinner just eaten, about to have a cuppa then its time to hit the hay ( and not worry about crossing back over the river tomorrow morning! :)